David Zvekic

Font Color='#880000'The Dilemma/Font - Poem by David Zvekic

The orbits of the spheres have wound to seeThese rolling tides, where Spring has swelled the moon, And skies, though closed themselves, still sing to me; Have I but heard their song some years too soon? That night may gentler blow where breath leaves thee, Resounding through my dreams in mute despair -These raucous paeans of love will never once more bare.

What binds us here as one beneath the sky? That seemly night betroths to fill all breath; So strong a life that deeming love could die, Should find a way to dream before its death.And though we were as one not meant to be, The notes are laid, in streaming muse to thee, And dead unless the shame I bare each day frees me.

What firmament is this within thy core? That holds contained inside its moving seatOf all I have beheld of worth before, Of all thou hast not felt of love's new sweet.'Tis set within thy form, a kind control, That comes though born of life less half my whole, From mine through thine, thy flesh wields still in all, my Soul.